


Stay alive for me

by Teslatell



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Blood, M/M, Please Kill Me, and yeah, there’s, this is a request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 09:17:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13268382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teslatell/pseuds/Teslatell
Summary: Ouma has to put aside his lies, because he might die if he doesn’t.





	Stay alive for me

**Author's Note:**

> Another request I wrote!! Enjoy!!!

Ouma was close to tears. It hurt. It hurt so fucking bad. He wanted to scream. Pink blood seeped through his white shirt, staining it badly. He desperately tried to delay the blood loss, pressing his hand onto his stomach. That only made the pain worse. Ouma took short, quick breaths. He could already see spots of black begin to cloud his vision. His eyes stung, a mixture of sweat and tears in them. His vision focused in and out, like a camera trying to pinpoint something to zero in on. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” Ouma muttered under his breath. He felt the car he was lying against slowly shift to the side. That was not the problem though. The issue was the creak that erupted from the movement. It wasn’t too loud, no, not at all, but  _they_ were close. Too close for his liking. A soft groan erupted from the other side of the rickety pick up truck, making Ouma flinch slighlty. He pressed his lips together in a thin line, his blood running cold. He couldn’t move, not even if he tried to. An extremely sharp pain would tear through his abdomen every time he tried. He was doomed to die. This was the end of the line for him. And all because of a stupid zombie wound. If it weren’t for the actual damage it left, he could have possibly lived to see another sun rise. Ouma could tell it wasn’t infected. He had seen many infections in his post apocalyptic journet. Puss filled, yellow and blue wounds that would squirt at someone if they ever tried to touch it. It was disgusting. If you twisted his arm, Ouma would admit he had thrown up at the sight of them the first few times. The worst one in his memory though, had to be from the great Saihara Shuuichi incident. It was so horrible it was even named. Saihara had gotten bit by a zombie a month ago. He didn’t tell anyone, too scared of what would occur if he did. Ouma was quite disappointed in him, actually. He thought the puny detective in training had at least developed a small level of toughness over the course of their short lived journey. But, no. He couldn’t even tell his little piano girlfriend that he was dying. In the end, their small group had only found out when he lost the privilege of using his legs. Ouma still remembered uncovering the wound like it was yesterday. The way the blood and puss flowed from the deep gash on his calf, splashing onto his own clothes. He remembered the way his small dinner of dried meat and stale bread from the night before had come back up to greet him, its sour taste making him gag. He also remembered the raw and terrified screams that Saihara let out as his best friend, Kaito, cut off his leg with his machete. Long story short, it didn’t work out, and their group ended up having to...exclude Saihara from the group. Yes, there were tears involved, but Ouma kept his to himself, unlike everyone else. 

His head lolled forward, making him jerk back sharply. He was done. This was it. The walking corpse was just around the corner. Its claws dug sharply into the car’s side, denting the metal. His vision was practically pitch black by then. The blood was everywhere. Ouma could barely breathe. Any dash of hope that was left in him before was gone like a blown out flame. “D-Dammit...” He swore quietly, hand flying to his wound. The zombie was in the corner of his eye. Ouma shut his eyes tightly, sweat beading on his forehead. He could smell the monster’s putrid breath from where he was.  It was over. He was gonna di- A loud thud interrupted his thoughts, followed by a loud screech from the zombie. Ouma heard it drop to the ground with a loud splat. He flinched when he felt black blood spray his side. “Ou-Ouma?” The boy in question hesitantly looked up, not wanting to face his savior. “Yes?” He asked, trying to keep his strained tone light. The figure wore multiple piercings, bracelets wrapped around his wrist. His green hair swayed slighlty in the breeze, covering a part of his face. Damn, talk about dramatic effect. Ouma smirked, though it looked more like a grimace. “W-Well, well...I’d recognize that face anywhere...How’s it going, Amami?” The green haired boy furrowed his brow, dropping his crowbar. “Wh-What happened?” He knelt next to Ouma, studying his wound. “A-Aw, are you worried about m-me? That’s cute...” Amami poked slightly at his gash, making him wince. “Watch it, dammit!” He hissed, face turning purple. “Oh, sorry...” Amami apologized, though he continued to prod at his wound. Ouma’s coat had torn right through because of his assaillant, letting him examine the wound easily. Ouma took slow breaths, trying to control himself. “How...did this happen?” The purple haired boy just rolled his eyes in response to his question. “I ran into a knife five times.” He answered, taking gasps of air in between words. Amami frowned. He gripped Ouma by his shoulder. “Let’s go.” Ouma rose an eyebrow “Wait wh-HOLY SHIT!” He howled in pain when Amami lifted him to his feet. He let out a string of curse words, lurching forward. Amami caught him by his shoulder again, wrapping Ouma’s arm around his own shoulder. “We’re gonna get your wound treated.” Amami explained, practically dragging his friend across the parking lot. “Where...are we going?” Ouma grunted, almost tripping over his own feet. “Careful. I’m taking you to a pharmacy I saw a block away. It’s not too far, so I think you’ll last.” Ouma just hummed, clutching his own stomach. “That place better have bandages...” He muttered, lowering his guard slightly. Amami nodded. “Yeah, I think I saw some by the window. Also some antibiotics.” His friend nodded lazily, taking slow breaths. “Mmhm...” Amami adjusted the arm around his shoulder. “Come on, don’t die on me now.” 

Luckily, the pair encountered no issues while traveling the small distance to the pharmacy. Amami carefully placed Ouma on the ground, locking the doors behind them. “Alright. I’ll be right back.” He turned on his heel and walked into the many aisles if medicine. Ouma stared up at the ceiling, ignoring his friend. He was gonna die anyways, it was a miracle he could even breathe right then. There was nothing but pure silence as the two did their own things. Amami continued to search for the right medicine, while Ouma stared out the glass doors. The town looked like shit. There wasn’t a sign of life anywhere to be found. Garbage flew across the streets, wind blowing hard. It was all so...depressing. Ouma felt the back of his eyes sting as he thought that.  This wasn't a prank, some joke that would blow over anytime soon. No, this was the real thing. And god, did he hate it. Without a sound, tears began to fall down his pale cheeks, staining them. He kept his gaze out the window, chin in his palm. “Hey Ouma I found th-“ Amami cut himself short, holding a white bottle and a roll of bandages. Ouma sniffled, rubbing at his eye. “Wh-Hey,” Amami began, kneeling in front of him.  “Are you okay?” The purple haired boy let out a bitter chuckle. “Am I okay? The world has just about ended, and I’m about to die. You think I’m okay?” He dipped his head forward, letting his tears fall freely. Amami stared at him, holding his breath. “Ouma...” He muttered. He plopped himself right next to Ouma, wrapping an arm around him. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll get out of here, I swear. We’re gonna survive.” Ouma leaned into his shoulder, sighing. “Yeah...I sure damn hope so...” Amami chuckled. They laid there against the door, bodies pressed together snugly. Suddenly, Ouma spoke up, voice soft. “Ya know, we should probably treat my wound now so I don’t die.” Amami shot up, smiling sheepishly. “O-Oh yeah. Just stay still.” He knelt back in front of Ouma, carefully lifting his shirt. As Amami bandaged his wound, Ouma stared at him, face blank. Maybe...the world wasn't at its end just yet. Ouma smiled slightly. Yeah, maybe he really could live to see another sun rise.

**Author's Note:**

> Now I just need three more.


End file.
